


Falling Deeper

by Ariadne Trevelyan (modifiedxhunter)



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adventure, Childhood, F/M, Kissing, Memories, family ties, old times, potential smut, quick meeting, stay tuned, trysts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-05-06
Packaged: 2018-03-24 17:42:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3777655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/modifiedxhunter/pseuds/Ariadne%20Trevelyan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Inquisitor admitted her feelings for Cullen, he reciprocates. Female Trevelyan has started to fall quickly for the Commander, but is it worthwhile? Does it last? Does it even take off? Stay tuned. More chapters to be added slowly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Place To Start

**Author's Note:**

> Getting started and off the ground, thanks for taking a look! I'll be adding another couple of chapters in the coming week.

_“Yes?”_  
_“Do you have time to talk?”_  
_“Of course.”_  
_“I thought you could use a break.”_

She stepped out of his office tower and into the sunlight, stretching her arms far above her head.

They were surrounded by a rather intimidating landscape. She had never seen the likes of it in her home of Ostwick. Over the ramparts, the mountain peaks shimmered and asserted their presence with jagged formations and regal summits. She rested her elbows on the wall and stared into the snow-covered valley. The Inquisition’s forces were set up along the frozen river, their tents in neat rows.

She could just make out groups of soldiers gathered around the pinpricks of fire. She was a little afraid to look down directly; the walls were high and imposing, built to withstand all but the very best of enemy forces.

Footsteps on stone resonated behind the Inquisitor, and she felt a gloved hand at her waist. She turned and the Commander slipped her body into his grasp.

He was grateful for her visit, for all day he could not shake her name from his immediate thoughts. It was almost annoying, really, how often he found himself thinking of her.  
The Inquisitor felt an overwhelming sense of shyness, and she did her best to shake it. She felt like a schoolchild. Their little meetings and trysts were short and sweet, for the meantime, but filled with nothing less than a fire that threatened to envelope her in passion.

He stayed his lips just long enough to gaze into her face, studying her slightly broken nose, and scarred tattoo under her eye. Her slight overbite gave her a sultry pout; brown eyes complemented her brown hair, which was strung up and twisted into a bun. He felt the urge to reach up and pull the pins from it, to let it tumble down her back.  
He could feel heat rising in his own cheeks as he became aware of his impure thoughts and the things he wanted to do with her.

_To her._

The Commander reached for her cheek and brought his lips to hers, every kiss becoming hungry and desperate.

_Maker, compel me to control these unruly notions._

He loathed himself as he drew back, a vain attempt to retain chastity in their kiss. This was new to both of them, and the more he tried to slow his need for the Inquisitor, the stronger it persisted. The Inquisitor had only admitted her true feelings to him a short time ago, and he frightened himself at how fast he was beginning to fall.

It took a mighty will to pull himself away.

He began to step back toward his tower, allowing his eyes to linger on her for a few moments longer, a quirky twitch of his lips promising more would come later. She watched him retreat, and then began to make her way toward the stone steps. The Inquisitor could suppress her giddy flutter no longer.

The encounter left her dazed.

She felt that if she threw herself over the wall, she would somehow sprout wings and take flight right over the wise peaks standing guard over Skyhold.


	2. Brother and Sister

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ariadne's travels are bringing her away from Skyhold again. She thinks about her brother and sister and what they would say about her new life, role as Inquisitor, and her relationship with the Commander.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is all - of course- purely speculation, as I have no idea how many siblings Lady Trevelyan of Ostwick has, and whether or not her mother is still alive.

The icy air nearly froze Ariadne's lungs as she heaved an inward sigh, and she could feel it awaken something deep inside her breast.

_What was it? Pain?_

She could not be sure. She turned for a moment in the saddle to glance up at Skyhold. Ariadne always felt uneasiness upon leaving, for anything could happen. It's not unreasonable to think she might never see it again. 

Cullen Stanton Rutherford stood on the ramparts, watching her company descend into the valley below. He made for a steadfast guardian, his eagle-eye gaze scouting ahead of them, as if trouble was to be expected at any moment.

He had lifted his hand in a muted goodbye, and Ariadne returned it by lifting her arm in valediction. Cullen had already bid her farewell in person that morning, in sweet kisses when she walked down into the main courtyard, and through knowing glances as she mounted up and rode through the gates. 

_Could he truly afford the luxury of romance in times of war? Did he need another soul to fret over in the current world's state?_

While he did not keep close tabs on his brother and sisters, he did, admittedly, miss them.  Doing so might only cause him more heartbreak, and if the Inquisitor were lost, he could not be certain of his reactions. With his zeal for military work and previous Templar commitments, he simply did not have the time or motivation to pursue romantic relations in his younger years. Members of the Templar Order did not take vows of chastity, but they were highly discouraged from forming romantic bonds. There were flirtations in the past, but he had no one waiting for him now.

_Maker's breath, calm down._

He shook his head to be rid of the morning thoughts and strode back inside where  a few Inquisition scouts and his desk full of paperwork awaited him. 

Ariadne did not see Cullen leave the rampart wall, for her horse had begun his descent into the valley. They passed Inquisition soldiers and she observed their training drills as she passed.

She overheard a small group praying to a shrine of Andraste. 

_Let the blade pass through the flesh,_  
_Let my blood touch the ground,_  
_Let my cries touch their hearts. Let mine be the last sacrifice._

_-Andraste 7:12_

 

It was foolish of her to refuse Andraste's teachings at a time like this. And yet, she resisted, despite her being paraded around Thedas as the Herald of Andraste before her previous title, Inquisitor, took hold.

She was placed into Chantry service as a young girl, preparing her for a life of servitude within the local Chantry in Ostwick. As the youngest child of House Trevelyan in Ostwick, she had little hope for inheritance of the family's holdings. She had little hope for marriage prospects, despite her title and family name. Ariadne's mother could only wish for her to become revered within the Chantry, and considered sending her to school at the University of Orlais. 

Ariadne was far more occupied with her siblings, racing against their retired coursers on her fat highland pony, Truffles. The pony himself was not inclined to winning races for her,  _unless_ they were pointed toward home. Eager to get back to his grain and blankets, his legs carried them at an alarming speed back toward the Trevelyan compound, occasionally losing his young rider in the process.

She thought fondly of her childhood, despite her overbearing mother and being forced into Andrastan worship. She missed that pony considerably, who had passed on shortly after her nineteenth birthday. She could scarcely believe that eight years had passed since then. 

She missed her brother, Roland, who had gone into Templar service. Where he was now, she did not know. But she worried for him a great deal, especially with how much red lyrium use she has witnessed as of late. The last time she had heard from him, she was in Haven and he had sent her a letter from Hasmal upon hearing of Justinia's death. He was worried for his little sister, but went on about how "exciting times" were upon the Templar Order.He said little in terms of detail or whether he's heard from their parents.

She desperately wanted him to join her at Skyhold, for he was of sound mind and sensible character, and would do better things for the Inquisition than for the Templar Order (in her opinion, anyway). She made a mental note to ask for Leliana's aid in finding him upon her return.

Her sister, Corinne, was being groomed as heir to the Trevelyan holdings and fortunes in Ostwick. She was a pompous snob, eager to slip away to Val Royeaux as many times as she could each year for the parties and balls. She was desperate to make a match, and many fine suitors have already approached her. However, their handsome features often came without fortunes or titles large enough to sate her desires, so she turned them away in hopes of finding someone more wealthy and of higher stature in social class. 

Despite her flaws, Corinne cared for Ariadne, and as a child, Corinne insisted that Ariadne would someday live in her palace as a princess when she became queen of the Free Marches. She dressed Ariadne in ribbons and silks and invited her and Roland to tea in their playroom annex.

When Corinne heard of the tragedy at the Temple of the Sacred Ashes, she forced the messenger to wait, scribbling a notice for anyone who might have seen her younger sister alive in the aftermath. How relieved she was to find that Ariadne was not only the lone survivor, but was proclaimed as the Herald of Andraste. To think of such things as possible for her little sister, she could not want for more, even if Corinne found herself slightly jealous of Ariadne's new title and power.  

Her thoughts carried her back to Cullen as the horses ambled down from the last of the mountains and began a steady trot.

Surely Roland would see what a wonderful man the Commander is. She hoped they might someday meet and get along very well. Corinne would be smitten at his handsome features and imposing presence, but once she found out he has no title, she would disdain him.

Ariadne didn't want to know what her parents would say. 


	3. What's In A Name?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ariadne receives a letter from home. It doesn't bear fantastic news.

“And _what_ , pray tell, do I find here?” Dorian Pavus smirked as he strode up the stairs to his desk, where Ariadne Trevelyan was slumped over in a woe begotten state.

“Oh, come now, Cousin”, as he had become accustomed to calling her upon finding out their distant relation, “things can’t be all doom and gloom, can they? Especially with how well things are going for the Inquisition as of late. You’ve impressed me, and we all know how difficult that is to achieve”, he preened and stroked the tip of his mustache.

Dorian stepped around Ariadne and placed his hands over her shoulders, squeezing slightly. He glanced out of the window of his study. The late afternoon sun was shining, and the courtyard was alive with the bustle of the returned Inquisition party. Goods were trading hands, horses were brushed and stabled, and exotic foods were being carried into the kitchens. A feast would be held tonight, he was sure. He could feel her sobs quiet, and his tone grew a touch more concerned.

“Even Cole is in a rare mood. I’m finding cut flowers hidden in many of my books, and I must say, I don’t abhor it. Now, won’t the dear Inquisitor open up to her most trusted ally?” He strode toward another chair, pulling it back toward Ariadne and took a seat across from her. His expression was not unkind, but that of patience and ease.

Ariadne sniffed, and pitifully swiped at her nose and cheeks to hide the tears. Dorian clucked his tongue and whisked a kerchief from his breast pocket, handing it to her. Ariadne blew her nose, and Dorian winced.

“They hate him, Dorian. The idea of me with him. They don’t approve.” Ariadne could feel another sob welling in her throat and she emitted strangled groan to prevent it from surfacing. She rubbed at her swollen eyes, wishing she had just gone to bed without reading the “urgent” post Josephine had saved for her.

“And since when did the approval of your family mean so much to you? They condemned you to a life of servitude because they believed you wouldn’t marry. What does it matter?”

“Dorian, they’re my parents and I respect them!”

“The very word _parent_ resonates little with me, in case you’ve forgotten.” Dorian frowned. He stood and paced the length of his study nook.   
  
“At any rate, they condemned you to a life of Chantry servitude. Do you truly believe they would jump for joy at their youngest daughter directly opposing familial wishes?”

“Well, I didn’t expect them to threaten me with destitution and refusing to speak to me.” Anger surged through Ariadne’s breast, and tears brimmed and blurred her vision again.

“Oh. Is that all? Dear, you needn’t worry over something so trivial as gold, now. And what of family? We have our own right here in Skyhold: a jolly gathering of driveling galoots!”

“Certainly not me, Dorian”, Leiliana’s eyes flashed underneath her hood as she glared for a moment over the balcony before disappearing from sight. Dorian chuckled and plucked imaginary lint from his trousers.

Ariadne rose from her seat and shuffled toward the stairs, gripping the banister. Another salty tear fell to the floor as she dipped her head and closed her eyes. Her cheeks felt hot and her head pounded from the past hour’s fit.   
  
“They mean more to me than anyone here knows. I love them, Dorian. Regardless of how far away I am from Ostwick, I couldn’t imagine a life without them. I wanted to bring him home. I wanted him to meet my family… my mother. I wanted them to see how happy I’ve been. How happy he makes me. And I can’t do that now.”    
  
Dorian said nothing. He twisted the end of his moustache again and wanted dearly to interject with anecdotes to cheer her up, but decided that nothing he could say was appropriate.

Ariadne took Dorian’s silence as resignation, and began her descent down the stairs. She thought to visit Cullen’s tower as she passed through the ground floor of the rookery, the room which Solas occupied. He was not in the room at the current time, and for that she was thankful. She halted a moment, and moved to open the door that led to Cullen’s office.

She had no time alone with him since her return, but he had overseen her arrival from the rampart and winked as she rode through the Skyhold gates. Ariadne had beamed up at him, and the thought of how delighted she was to be back only an hour ago made her feel even more wretched. She shook her head and instead strode dejectedly into the main hall, avoiding eye contact with whispering guests and looks of unease the servants were sharing. She did her best to hide her red cheeks and bloodshot eyes.   
  
After entering her quarters and making her way up the stairs, she sat on the beautiful carpet Josephine had picked out for her, and began to remove her armor. The removal of each piece lightened her limbs, but her heart grew steadily heavier. Stripping down to her stained overshirt and trousers, she rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling for a moment. The parchment from her father was on the floor, crumpled from being read and folded up again numerous times. She curled into a ball on that plush carpet, feeling more alone and defeated than she had on her worst days in the wilds of Thedas.

She did not know how much time had passed as she laid there, but the sun had passed over and was disappearing over the mountain behind Skyhold when a knock echoed through her chamber. She heard the wooden door creak open and footsteps on the stone steps. For a fleeting second, she thought it was Cullen himself come to visit, and she didn’t know whether to feel relief or to hide someplace.

“Inquisitor? Ari?”  
  
Josephine Montilyet made herself visible as she ascended the steps. She carried her ever-present clipboard with the candle blown out, and a maid was right behind her with tea things on a silver tray. Josephine’s eyes widened at the mess of armor on the floor, and down at Ari’s crestfallen form on the carpet.

Josephine set her clipboard on the chaise next to the stair railing as the maid arranged tea and a few slices of hot bread on Ariadne’s desk, lighting the oil lamps and candles as she went. The maid quietly gathered the armor from the floor to be repaired and cleaned. She bowed, avoiding eye contact, and excused herself.

“I know of the situation, Inquisitor, forgive me. Your father sent a letter addressed to me as well. He believes it disgraceful and wishes to hear nothing more from the Inquisition until you… well. Unless you call off your relationship with the Commander. But, wait- hold on I’m not through”, Josephine held up her hands as Ariadne glared up at her from the floor. Josephine clucked in disapproval and stooped down. She gently took hold of Ariadne’s arm, and Ari allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. Josephine plucked lint from Ari’s shoulders and brushed her off.

“Now, I believe you and the Commander have a wonderful partnership together. I am one of the last people who would wish it terminated. The wants of your family should not stand in the way of something that can make you truly happy. Talk to Cullen. Please, Inquisitor. Think on it. I understand the hold a family name can have and the expectations it comes with. And I know of your family. They do care about you, though it seems their actions suggest otherwise. Your father is known for his stubborn behavior, but he is quite wise. He will see that the Commander is no ordinary man to contend with.”

“I know it’s my mother who is truly pulling the strings behind all of this. She’s the one who holds such opinions”, Ariadne’s voice was raspy and her voice cracked. “It doesn’t matter with whom I’ve entered a relationship with in the first place, it’s the fact that I refused to comply with what they wanted for me. I can’t be their well-behaved puppet anymore, Josie. I won’t do it.”

“Such is the life of noble daughters, Inquisitor”, Josephine sighed and took Ariadne’s hot cheek in the palm of her hand. Ariadne felt better; Josie’s hand was cold and comforting. “Goodness, what shall we do with you? Our brave Inquisitor, miles away from home, and yet the troubles of home worry you worse than Corypheus himself. Have a seat, and I’ll pour the tea.” Josephine smiled reassuringly.

As Ari sat down on the chaise, the wooden door creaked open again without any knock, and Sera bounded up the flight of stairs.

“Knicked some sweet rolls for my best Quizzy- oops”, Sera spotted Josephine a beat too late, and Josephine glowered. She rolled her eyes and handed the steaming cup to Ariadne. She mumbled a thanks, and Sera gave her a once-over.

“So dreary, you. What’s a matter?”, Sera inquired as she threw herself onto the chaise, biting into a sweet roll.

“Really, Sera. I don’t think it appropriate to discuss until she’s ready”, Josephine started in, but Sera shook her head with her mouth full.

“I didn’t come up here to bother. I know when shite’s shite and she looks sick as a parrot.”

“No, it’s okay. We can talk about it”, Ariadne said as she got up, carrying her tea saucer. She bent down to pick up the letter, and Sera whistled. Josephine shot her another look of disapproval and poorly disguised a groan. Ariadne’s mouth crooked into a half-smile, and Sera grinned back.

“Here. This came from my father in Ostwick. It’s not that long. Just very… decided. And blunt.”   
  
Sera took the letter, scanned it as she finished off the sweet roll, and grabbed another off of her platter. Ariadne stared into her teacup, watching the leaves swirl after she took a sip. The liquid was orange-brown, and the rising steam condensed on her face just slightly.

“No!” she exclaimed, “not your precious Cully-Wully! Again with this rich, spoilt asshat business!”  
  
“Sera!” Josephine’s look of shock humbled Sera for a moment, and she modified her speech.

“Name-calls aside, sorry Ari, this is beyond loads of shite. Your family actually likes you.” Sera snorted and took a swig from Ariadne’s cup of tea, pulling a face as she did so. “Ugh. I forget you like that posh stuff.”   
  
The corner of Ari’s mouth twitched again, and Josephine looked to be just about done with the whole situation.

“Well, it seems I’ve been away long enough, I’m sure there’s a line at my desk to see me at this point.” Josephine stood and grabbed her clipboard from where she had left it. Sera tilted her head up at Josephine and smiled.

“You work too hard, Josie.”   
  
“There’s always something new to deal with, I’m afraid”, Josephine replied, “the Inquisition’s advisors rarely enjoy the simple pleasures. You should go see him, Ari. It might do the both of you good.” Josephine turned to Ariadne and gave her forearm a light squeeze.   
  
“Until later.” Ariadne nodded her appreciation and Josephine made her way around the banister and down the stairs.

“She’s right you know. You should spend some time with him… some of that energy, too. I think our Commander needs it. And you.” Sera smirked at Ariadne.

She could feel the heat rising into her cheeks again. Ariadne could do nothing to hide the blush creeping into her face.

“We haven’t… I mean. I don’t.” Ariadne coughed and looked out of her open balcony doors toward the courtyard. The sun was disappearing quicker than she realized. “I have.. once. When I was younger in Ostwick. My mother found out and she forbade me from seeing the boy again.”   
  
“But you’ve been seeing the Commander for months!”   
  
Ariadne whirled around, a look of alarm apparent on her face, and Sera rolled her eyes. “What? It’s not like you hid it… snogging up there on the wall and all that. Everyone knows.” Sera stood and made her way toward the stairs, the plate of sweet rolls still in hand.

“What’ve you two been doing all this time? You really are a prude, aren’t you?” Sera giggled. She made kissy noises at Ariadne, and she felt herself blush again.   
  
“I’m serious, Ari. Go see him. Give him a good massage. Everywhere. Andraste knows our great Commander could use loosening up. You know what I mean.” She winked and jogged down the stone steps.

Ariadne sighed with resignation. She very much wanted to be comforted by Cullen’s strong arms at the moment. She paced the floor, and decided to draw up a bath she desperately needed. She made her way down the stairs and through the tower that led to the main hall. Poking her head out, she could see that the tables were being cleared and set for the supper feast.   
  
Skyhold’s current guests were perhaps changing in their quarters, as the hall was nearly empty save for the bustle of kitchen staff carefully laying out the silver and platters. Their faces were bathed in the soft glow of candlelight as more and more were being lit. The room was warm and inviting with the crackle of the fireplaces. The kitchen staff was in cheerful spirits, exchanging hushed banter and chuckling. Savory aromas were wafting up from the kitchen, and Ariadne wished she had eaten some of the hot bread Josephine brought up.

She waved a nearby maid down, and asked for hot water to be brought to her quarters. She was determined to see Cullen tonight, but first, she had to clean herself up. 


End file.
